


Broken Promises

by Rickster



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Choking, Depression, F/M, Flowers, Hanahaki AU, Happy Ending, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Questioning Sexuality, Unrequited Love, anxiety attack, hanahaki, mention of self harm, pinning, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 22:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14482914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rickster/pseuds/Rickster
Summary: Hanahaki DiseaseAn illness caused by unrequited love. Symptoms? Coughing up flowers to a point of suffocation and death.Cured by surgery, loss of feelings or when feelings are returned.Managed by distance and forgetting.Mark tried to deny it, but staring at those damn petals in his hand, his nightmare came to life.





	Broken Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is my take on the Hanahaki AU. Its different than the standard, I took some liberties and made it my own. But I hope you like it! 
> 
> HUGE thanks to [songsforfelurian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsforfelurian/pseuds/songsforfelurian) for all there help. Check out there story More Than Friends. Its amazing
> 
> I plan to write a sequel to this as well to expand more on the ending.
> 
> For anyone reading "Can You Help Me Breathe" I'm still on my way with that, this has just been a side project I've been working on for a while for a friend.
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know if you'd want to see the sequel!

Mark knew he was doomed the moment he laid eyes on Sean.

He was in middle school when there was talk of a new student from Ireland starting next week. He hadn’t paid much attention to the rumours, not really caring either way. He usually kept his head down and out of the way of the other students. He was a bit of a loner, didn’t really have any friends and was mostly just ignored by people. Not that he minded. Usually.

It wasn't until that fateful Monday morning as everyone was in their seats waiting for class to start - Mark tucked away in the back corner reading his book - when the principal entered the classroom ushering in a scrawny brown-haired kid.

“Good morning class.” She waited for the class to respond before continuing. “I’d like to introduce to you your new classmate, Sean McLoughlin. Sean has come here all the way from Ireland and I hope you will give him a warm welcome.” She gave the class a hard look before turning to the teacher, leaving Sean to stand there by himself. Ireland? Mark had never met anyone from another country. He had never even met someone who wasn’t from L.A. Mark watched as Sean fiddled with the hem of his shirt, pulling at some of the loose threads, the sound of Sean’s foot tapping on the ground echoed quietly through the classroom. Mark could practically see the energy radiating from him.

After a few moments the principal left and Mrs. Dennis addressed Sean, telling him to take the empty seat at the back - right beside Mark.

Mark ducked his head as Sean made his way over, trying his best to look disinterested as Sean sat beside him. He kept his focus on the words in front of him, very aware of the presence on his left. After a few moments he heard shuffling and when he turned slightly he barely contained a squeak. Sean was practically falling out of his chair as he leaned over towards Mark, looking at his book.

Mark spluttered, unable to get any coherent words out as Sean’s eyes flicked up to his face.

“What ya reading?”

Mark was still at a loss for words, especially after hearing Sean’s voice. It didn’t really occur to him that he would have a different accent, not being from the U.S., and he was a little distracted by it. “Uh, it’s a novel.” He managed to get out.

“Well _duh_ , I can see that. But what's it about?”

Mark glanced up at the front of the class, knowing how much Mrs. Dennis hated when they talked in class, but she was still preparing at her desk, and class didn’t start for a couple more minutes.

“Um. It’s about a Skeleton detective and his sidekick, who is twelve. They do magic and stuff.”

Sean’s eyes widened in what looked like excitement. “I thought it looked familiar! Skulduggery Pleasant right?” 

Sean was practically vibrating and Mark was put off but not totally in a bad way.

“Yeah, how do you know it?”

“How do I know it?? Dude, the author is from Ireland. That’s why it takes place in Ireland.”

Mark closed the book, inspecting it like he had when he first picked it up. “Huh. Yeah, I guess so.” He looked back to Sean. “So you’ve read it then?”

Sean nodded enthusiastically. “It’s one of my favourite series. What part are you at?”

“Uh, I just met Ghastly. I’m not very far yet, I just got the book a few days ago. I like it so far though, the author has a unique writing style.”

“Yes! That’s my favourite part about it. I guarantee you are going to love it. When you finish let me know. The second book came out this past summer so you can borrow it.”

Mark was so taken aback by Sean, just nodding in agreement as the teacher called the class to attention.

Mark spent most of his morning classes shooting little glances at Sean, who was very focused on Mrs. Dennis and the subjects. Whenever a question was asked, he was one of the first people to have his hands up answering questions with ease. Mark wanted to warn him. He knew his classmates, and Sean was quickly making himself a target for a few select students.

As Sean answered yet another question, he glanced over to the three boys sitting on the other side of the classroom, watching them glare and snicker at Sean. Rodney, the so-called leader of the three, turned his gaze to Mark and smirked. Mark sunk back into his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. Having had his own run-in with those three, the last thing he wanted was to give them even more reason to make his life hell.

When class ended for their first break, Mark grabbed his stuff and bolted out the door. He heard Sean call for him but he ignored him. He felt horrible, but Mark was a loner for a reason. Keeping quiet and out of the way meant less attention drawn to him, and less attention usually meant he was left alone. It didn’t always work that way, but it was better than fighting back. He had learned that the hard way.

He spent his break in the library, waving hello to the librarian as he hunkered down in between the shelves of books. He opened his book again, only getting through a few pages before a body dropped onto the ground beside him.

This time he actually _did_ squeak, clutching his chest as he looked at Sean, exasperated. “You scared me half to death.” Sean just laughed at him, apologizing. “How did you even find me?”

“I just took a guess you’d be here when I didn’t see you outside. You look like a book worm.” Sean got himself settled, taking a sandwich out of his bag and munching on it.

“Uhm. What are you doing?”

Sean looked at his food then looked back at Mark. “I’m eating,” he stated.

Mark held back the urge to sigh. “I meant what are you doing here, in the library?”

“I’m keeping you company.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mark bristled a bit. “I don’t like company. That’s why I came here.”

Sean scoffed at him. “Everyone likes company. That’s like saying ‘I don’t like food.’” He emphasized his point by taking another bite of his sandwich.

_“Some people_ don’t _like food,”_ Mark mumbled under his breath, before saying aloud, “Well, I like to eat by myself, so if you don’t mind…”

“Oh come on. I’ll be quiet! It’s my first day and I don’t know anyone.”

“You don’t even know _me_. You don't even know my name.”

“Well, what's your name?”

“Mark.” It slipped out before he could even stop himself and he cursed. Sean just beamed at him, munching happily on his sandwich.

“Nice to meet you Mark.” 

The bell sounded, and they packed up and headed back to class. Sean talked while Mark listened - mostly - on the way back. As they entered the classroom, Mark saw Rodney and the other two boys - Cameron and Nick - roughing around a bit before they set their eyes on Mark and Sean when they walked in. 

Mark looked down, bee lining for his desk. Sean followed after a moment asking Mark what was wrong.

Mark looked back at Rodney and the others before whispering to Sean.

“You see those three boys?” Sean looked over before turning back to Mark. “They’re pricks and you should do your best to avoid them and avoid drawing attention to yourself. That includes being a know-it-all in class and talking with me.” Mark turned in his desk, once again keeping his head in his book. “It’s best just to keep your head down and lay low. Not as bad that way.”

Mark didn’t look back at Sean, and he ignored him for most of the class hoping he got his point across. When the lunch bell rang, Mark packed up his stuff and he started to make his way to the library again. On the walk there, he tripped over something and landed right on all of his books, papers scattering around him. Before he could make a move to get up, someone grabbed his backpack, pulling him up by it. He winced as his arms got caught in the straps, being pulled backward at an awkward angle. He came face to face with Rodney who was sneering at him.

“Better watch where you’re going, Fischbitch.” He turned around and Mark was dropped back to the ground, his face hitting the ground. He could hear laughter around him, but he did his best to shut it out. He pushed himself up when he felt another presence. Mark looked up to see Sean, a half smile on his face as he offered his hand to him.

After hesitating a moment, Mark accepted the help, and Sean pulled him up with ease. They both leaned over to grab his stuff, Mark thanking him.

“No sweat man. They sure are jerks.”

“Yeah.” Mark mumbled, once again making his way to the library, slightly exasperated by Sean’s continued presence.

“How often do they do that?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes.” Mark tried to brush it off, not wishing to dwell on it. They made their way over to Mark's previous spot and settled down.

“Don’t you ever fight back?”

“There’s no point. I’ve tried in the past but it didn't do me any good. It’s easier to just keep low and let what happens happen. Less painful.”

“That's bullshit.”

Mark was startled by the aggressiveness in Sean voice. “What?”

“All you’re doing is showing them they can do whatever they want to you. If you fight back then you’re taking away the power they so obviously have over you. Don’t give them the satisfaction.” The conviction in Sean’s voice gave Mark pause before he shook his head. 

“Maybe you can do that, but I can’t. It’s easier to just let them do what they want.”

Sean huffed in what Mark thought was annoyance before speaking. “But it’s _wrong._ And not fair.”

Mark just shrugged. “Life isn’t fair. Best to learn that now, else you’ll be disappointed.”

Sean made an irritated noise, turning away from Mark who paused, not sure what to do. He could easily leave and just end whatever friendship Sean seemed to want to pursue, but Mark had to admit - it felt nice. He had never really had friends, partly due to Rodney and his friends, and his own personality which he viewed as unlikable as a whole. But he felt drawn to Sean, curious maybe? He was from another country after all. If Sean really wanted to be his friend then maybe he would let it happen.

“So, you said you have the second Skulduggery book?”

Sean’s head snapped over to Mark and a goofy smile spread across his face that Mark couldn’t help but find weirdly adorable. “Heck yeah I do!”

They spent the rest of break talking about the book. At one point Sean got up and scanned the books in the library and settled on a fiction novel that Mark had recommended to him. They ended up being on the same bus route and they read in silence the whole way. Mark found it very comforting. Sean seemed to have boundless amounts of energy but it could be reserved when he wanted to.

Mark’s stop was first and Sean told him he would see him tomorrow as he gathered his things and got off the bus. When he turned back Sean was waving to him from the bus window and Mark waved back. Once the bus turned the corner, Mark headed down his driveway to his house, a smile growing on his face.

When he walked into his house, his brother was already home and as per usual asked him how his day had been. Mark found for the first time in a long time he could honestly say it had been good. He grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge, heading to his room as his brother told him his parents would both be home late tonight. Nothing new there.

He dropped his bag off in his room and pulled out his book to read, thinking back to his time in the library with Sean. He settled onto his back, then sat upright again, coughing once in response to an odd itch in his throat that came out of nowhere. He grabbed his water, taking a sip and after he coughed once more, the feeling went away. Satisfied, he flopped onto his stomach, opened his book, and started to read.

 

 

Over the next couple months Mark and Sean grew closer. Mark was still a little awkward around Sean, often very subdued. He’d never had a real friend before and the last thing he wanted to do was mess it up by embarrassing himself and scaring Sean away.

Sean, for his part, seemed completely at ease around him which made Mark happy. He was glad Sean could be relaxed around him, and he wished he could do the same. That was just Sean though. He was _always_ relaxed. He seemed so confident in himself and Mark found himself in awe over it. Mark could barely ask a question without worrying about the tone of his voice.

He was able to open up to Sean, about things he had never spoken to anyone about. It had taken some coercion on Sean’s part, but eventually Mark told him about his insecurities and fears. His biggest fear was being alone.

“I think everyone has that fear to be honest.” Sean had replied as they sat in the library during lunch.

“Well, yeah, but most have something to offer and people actually want to be around them.” Mark had grumbled into his book - the second one of the Skulduggery series courtesy of Sean.

“I like you! And I like your company,” Sean exclaimed, quieting down when they heard a shush from the librarian.

“Yeah well, you’re the odd one out. Still amazes me that you even want to be friends with a pathetic loser like me.”

Sean leaned in closer, lowering his voice a bit as he spoke. “The way _I_ see it, you’re just above everyone else. Like, you don't have the same worries or problems like all the other kids. And you’re _real._ You’re yourself, and I happen to think it's pretty darn awesome. One day everyone else will catch up and see what I see.”

Mark hadn’t known what to say in response to that, a little blown away by Sean’s speech. He’d be lying if it hadn’t made him tear up a bit. He wiped at eyes discreetly while Sean munched on his food. If only that were true, but it was a nice thought to entertain.

“Where’s your lunch?”

“Forgot it.”

Sean groaned. “Dude, again? Really?” Sean dug into his lunch kit pulling out the second sandwich he had. “I don’t know why I act so surprised. You always forget it.” Sean handed him the sandwich, Mark taking it hesitantly with a mumbled thanks. He nibbled on it for the rest of the break, only getting through half by the time the bell went.

Well, he hadn’t opened up about everything.

 

 

Rodney and his crew had taken to harassing both Mark and Sean on a fairly regular basis, usually resulting in Sean defending him, even taking a punch or two for Mark. It made him feel so useless but he was so scared. He tried telling Sean not to do it but he always laughed him off.

“But did you see how frustrated they got? Ha! Nothing like wiping those smug-ass grins off their faces.”

Time passed fairly quickly, and they were rapidly approaching middle school graduation. It was a couple months before when Mark had come across a terrifying sight.

He had an eye appointment that morning - looked like he was going to need glasses - so he was coming back to school during their first break. When he rounded the corner onto the school grounds he halted when he saw Sean, a cast on his leg - he had broken it last week after falling off the roof of his house - being backed into a corner by Rodney, Cameron and Nick, his crutches discarded to the side.

Mark froze, ducking back around the corner before anyone could see him. When he peeked back he could see Sean hobbling backward until he hit the school wall. Mark could see the fear on his face that he tried to mask with indifference but he wasn’t doing a very good job.

Mark turned away, back pressed firmly into the wall as he felt panic start to set in. _What do_ _I do? What do I do?_ Sean was always the one defending him, but with his busted leg, there wasn’t much he could do and those assholes probably realized that.

“Nothing you can do now can you spaz.” Mark looked around the corner at the sound of Rodney’s voice. He watched as Cameron jumped forwards and grabbed Sean while Nick picked up a stone and threw it at him, hitting Sean just above his eye. Mark heard Sean yell out and he flinched at the sound.

The others laughed and Mark felt something bubble in the pit of his stomach. It took him a moment to realize it was anger. He was feeling _angry_. He looked on again, and watched as Rodney taunted Sean some more, mocking his accent, and then punched Sean in the gut. When Sean doubled over, he looked back up at Rodney and the look of pure fear on Sean’s face caused something to snap in Mark.

Before he could think about what he was doing, Mark ran from his hiding spot and as Rodney wound up for another hit, Mark bull-dozed right into his side, taking them both to the ground.

“What the hell!” he heard from behind him, but he didn’t care. He pushed himself up and sat atop of Rodney and he started wailing on him, fists hitting whatever they could. He didn’t even realize he was yelling until he felt hands pull at him and he was thrown to the ground. Mark quickly jumped back up to see Rodney being pulled up by his friends and Mark took a step towards them, a smug look on his face when Rodney stepped back, followed by the three of them retreating, calling names and excuses as they went.

After making sure they were gone, Mark rushed over to Sean.

“Sean, are you okay? Let me look at your eye.” Mark hovered over him, worry taking over. Sean just waved him off, asking for Mark to help him up. When they were standing, Sean threw his arms around Mark, who yelped in surprise.

“You did it Mark! You fought back!” Sean cried out, pulling back with the biggest smile on his face. Mark was flustered and confused, not understanding how Sean was so happy while there was blood dripping into his eye.

“Okay, that’s great Sean, but you need to go to the nurse.” But Sean waved him off again, saying he couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you even realize what you did Mark? You _fought back._ I knew you could do it!”

Mark felt himself blush at the praise, his own mind realizing what he had just done. But he could worry about that later. For now, he needed to get Sean help.

He managed to drag Sean, who was whooping and hollering the entire way, to the school nurse. They had to wait because another kid was with the nurse. Mark was fairly sure he was as red as a tomato at all of Sean’s compliments and praise. Mark tried to tell Sean to stop, that it wasn't that big of a deal, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“You are not blowing this off. This is huge. Be proud of yourself, I know I am.”

Mark felt his breath stutter. Proud? Sean was proud of him? He was blushing even _more_ now and he was thankful when the nurse finally ushered Sean in. _Proud._ Mark didn’t think anyone had every said that to him, certainly not his parents. Mark waited outside the office for Sean. As he waited his throat started to itch. He coughed a bit, trying to clear away whatever was there. It took a minute but eventually it cleared.

Sean showed up soon after with a bandage across his eyebrow and his cast signed by the nurse.

“Man, I never knew how hot our school nurse was,” Sean had commented after. Mark only shrugged. He had never noticed himself.

They ended up being called into the principal's office the next day over the incident. Mark had been terrified, he had never been in trouble like this before and the principal had called in his dad. He was sure he was dead, but again, Sean came to the rescue.

He defended Mark, explaining how Rodney and the others had attacked him and Mark had been protecting him. Rodney and Cameron had tried denying it but Nick ended up caving under his own father’s stern look. In the end, the three boys got two weeks detention, and Mark got one week. He still fought on school ground, but he could tell it was more of a formality than anything. As Mark walked out of the office, his father stopped him to tell him ‘good job,’ then turned towards the exit. Mark didn’t think the day could get any weirder.

Sean ended up in the nurse's office again when his eye started to bother him. It had gotten infected from the blood and he had to go to the hospital to get it taken care of. It had been nothing serious but he had to wear an eye patch for a while.

“It’s a systemic infection or whatever. A ‘septic eye’.” Sean explained as they were walking down a path near Mark's house.

“Ha, that’s a good nickname. ‘Seansepticeye.” Mark giggled. Sean groaned at the name.

“That’s lame. Jacksepticeye sounds better.” Mark looked at Sean in confusion.

“Where did Jack come from?”

“Oh, it’s a nickname for ‘John’, which is also another name for Sean. Most of my family and friends back home call me Jack.”

“Huh. Would you prefer I call you Jack?” Mark asked, looking at Sean from the corner of his eye.

“Doesn’t really matter to me. Whatever you want.”

Mark stuck with Sean, and Sean never commented on it. Even when they started high school and he mostly introduced himself as Jack, he never asked Mark to stop.

It was also when Mark realized he was utterly fucked.

By sophomore year, Mark was fairly sure he was in love with his best friend.

Over the last few years, when all the guys around him would be talking about girls and who had nicer tits and butts, Mark found he couldn’t care less. At first he just thought it was because he didn’t care about stuff like looks or was above it in a sense, but when he found himself picturing a certain Irishman's behind whenever people talked about which girls in the school had the best ass, he started to realize why he wasn’t into girls.

At first he tried his best to deny it. He couldn't be in love with him. Because Sean wasn't gay, and that meant his love wasn't returned. But that soon ended when he found himself locked inside the bathroom stall, throat burning as he stared at the rose petals in his hand, a nightmare come to life.

Hanahaki disease. An illness caused by unrequited love. Symptoms? Coughing up flowers to a point of suffocation and death.

Mark couldn't even process what he was looking at. Everyone knew about the disease. You see it on TV, in movies and books. You saw it on the news when someone died because they refused treatment. He remembered learning more about it in health class last year.

_“While distance can help people live with the condition, the only way to cure yourself is to either have your person of interest return your feelings, you to lose your feelings, or to have it surgically removed.”_

_“Why do people die from it then if it can be surgically removed?” a kid in his class - Dan - had asked._

_“There is the odd case of people not getting the help in time, but the main reason people choose not to get the surgery is that afterwards, it removes all feelings you previously had for the person.”_

_“Then just move away or something. My mom said that people can survive with it as long as they get away from them and stop thinking about them,” Suzy piped up from the back._

_“Some people have done that as well, only problem with that is if the person comes back into your life in any way, and you still have feelings for them, the shock to the system can be enough to kill you instantly; flowers coming up full force. Also, many people find it hard to be away from the person.”_

At the time Mark had thought the idea of sacrificing yourself just to keep the feelings for a person that would never love you was ridiculous. He still did now if he was honest.

But as he sat in the stall, clutching those damn petals in his fist, he found the idea of ridding his feelings for Sean terrifying.

It had been a gradual discovery for Mark. He hadn't even realized he was gay until his feelings for Sean had arisen. Looking back, Mark was pretty sure he had started falling for him the first day he entered his life. Sean was his first real friend, first person to believe in him. Because of Sean, Mark broke out of his shell. He made new friends, joined the football team and the marching band. He wasn't popular by any means, and he still had his issues, but they were easy to forget with Sean around. The loneliness he once felt was slowly being erased by Sean and Mark couldn’t imagine not having him in his life.

Mark clutched the petals in his hand.

_It had to be roses too._

Everyone had different flowers that the disease would affect them with. No one really knew why, it seemed to be at random but, depending on the flowers, it would change the severity of the illness.

And every rose has its thorns.

Mark felt his phone buzz in his pocket. On reflex he pulled it out, seeing a text from Sean asking where he had disappeared to. He’d been sitting in the bathroom for twenty minutes now.

Mark snapped out of the numb state he was in, and quickly stood, flushing the flowers down the toilet. He wiped the tears from his face. Funny, he hadn’t even realize he had been crying. He exited the stall he looked in the mirror. God he looked like a mess. He splashed some water on his face, slapping his cheeks a bit to try and liven himself up, then putting his glasses back on which he had tucked in his pocket before. There were only a couple minutes left in class, so Mark took his time walking back and made it there when the bell went off.

Ignoring the disapproving look the teacher threw him, Mark walked over to his desk to gather his stuff. Sean was leaning on Mark’s desk, waiting.

“Dude, where did you go? You were gone for like half an hour.”

Mark packed his bag up, ignoring the itch in his throat. “Sorry, was in the bathroom. I wasn't feeling very good.”

“Are you feeling sick? Or..?” Sean left the question hanging, Mark already knowing what he was asking.

“No no, nothing like that.” Mark reassured him. He watched as Sean visibly relaxed.

“Do you need to go home? I can skip class and walk ya home.” Sean’s immediate concern warmed Mark's heart but just furthered his dilemma. God what was he going to do?

“Nah I’m fine. Only one more class anyways.” They headed out into the hallway, heading towards their respective classes.

“If you say so. If I were you I'd ham it up to get out of Geography. God knows that class is hell.”

Mark giggled, understanding Sean’s disdain for the class. He didn't hate it like Sean did, but he certainly didn't like it.

“I think there's a sub today so probably means we’ll be watching videos all class.”

They stopped outside of Sean’s classroom. Sean groaned. “Ugh lucky. You should message me during English. I think Mr. Keaton is reading Shakespeare to us and last time it almost scarred me.”

Mark laughed, promising to message Sean and keep him from dying of boredom.

“Hey, did you eat that sandwich I gave you?” Sean questioned Mark before going into his class. Mark sighed exaggeratedly before responding.

“Yes, I did. You know I always do.”

Sean put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just making sure. It’s also the first time in a while you didn’t pack a lunch.”

“Parents have been avoiding home more than usual again, so there’s not really anything to make a lunch with.”

“Damn. Are you still planning on getting a job? I still think it’s fucking stupid you even have to consider it right now,” Sean commented, irritation in his voice.

“If I want to be able to get out of my house, I need to start saving now.” Mark shrugged. He didn’t really care much about the food aspect. He never really ate much to begin with. Between his parents often not buying any groceries for weeks at a time and Mark’s past with his mental health, he never had much of an appetite.

Sean grumbled before sighing as the warning bell went off. “You should get to class man. I’ll talk to you after!”

They said their goodbyes and Mark made his way to his class. He didn’t have any friends in this class, so he took a seat in the back corner. As expected, the sub took a quick attendance then flipped on a documentary and sat at the desk near the front, pulling out his phone. It had barely been five minutes when Mark’s phone lit up, a message from Sean.           

            **If Mr. Keaton does one more act out I’m gonna scream**

Mark stifled a laugh, knowing exactly what Sean was currently sitting through. The teacher could be eccentric when it came to Shakespeare at times. He typed back a response.  

            **Et tu brute?**

The response was instantaneous.           

            **Suck my dick**

 Mark snorted, and started typing back “When and where,” then paused, erasing the message and stuck with a simple ‘lol’. It was another couple minutes before he got a response back.

            **At least I ended up in the class with mostly all girls.**

**God we have some nice looking women in this school.**

Mark swallowed thickly, putting his phone back in his pocket. Why did it have to be Sean? Why did he have to even _like_ _guys_? Why couldn’t he be normal and maybe have a chance at a happy life? It seemed as if life hated him and enjoyed to watch him flounder.

Mark knew Sean would never return his feelings, he wasn’t into guys and to be honest, why would he or anyone be into Mark anyways? Mark had always assumed he’d be alone in life, used to have nightmares about this exact disease claiming him because of his inability to keep anyone around, but Sean had been the one to help him kick back those fears and thoughts. But sometimes, like right now, they reared their ugly heads and Mark felt himself spiraling.

Usually he’d go to Sean when he was feeling like this, but seeing as how Sean was the main reason for it, he wasn’t sure how helpful it would be.

Mark felt sick to his stomach. Was he going to lose Sean? The only way to stop this was to either remove his feelings or stay away. If he had the surgery though, would it remove _all_ feelings permanently? Even friendship? What if he had the surgery and he no longer even wanted Sean as a friend? He would be alone again. Mark felt panic at the thought. He never wanted to be alone again, never wanted to experience that dark, all consuming hole of utter isolation.

It was too late to stop now, he could feel his breath quicken and the room was closing in on him. He felt as if all the eyes in the classroom were staring at him, as his heart thumped loudly in his ears. He went up to the desk, asking the teacher if he could be excused, that he felt ill. He must have looked the part because the teacher wrote him a note in case he was stopped in the hall and told him to ‘feel better’. Mark collected his things, now very aware that all eyes in the class were _actually_ on him and he hurried out.

He practically sprinted outside, going to a small inlet at the back of the school, barely making it before he collapsed to the ground, gasping as he tried to take deep breath, but choked on the air. His eyes burned as tears started to well up, quickly falling as Mark continued to hyperventilate. He shuffled to the corner, curling up as he hugged himself, his glasses being bumped off his face, shaking as he tried to get his breathing under control.

It had been a while since he had had a panic attack this bad. Usually Sean was the one to help him through, but he didn’t want to bother him while he was in class. And besides, his feelings for Sean were the main source for this, so wouldn’t it just make it worse?

But Mark found himself craving some form of physical comfort, even just a hand to hold. Mark was a pretty affectionate person in the sense that he was always wanting some kind of contact whether it be arms touching or someone using him as a footrest or a head on his shoulder. It made him feel less alone and it grounded him in moments like this.

So he caved, his desire for Sean and his need for comfort overpowering his own usual fears of annoying someone and also of having to explain later to Sean what was wrong.

He sent off a text to Sean before he could stop himself, immediately feeling nauseous. He stuffed his phone away, not wanting to see his response (or lack thereof) and hugged himself tighter. It could have been a minute or it could have been an hour, but Mark eventually felt someone's presence beside him and then there were arms around him.

“Hey, I’m here, it’s okay Mark.”

Sean’s voice filtered through his ears and Mark leaned heavily into Sean’s chest, taking in his scent and trying to ground himself.

“S-Sean, I’m so-orry, I don’t know why-” Mark was cut off by another choked sob.

“Hush, just let it out. I’d much rather be here than in that class right now. Mr. Keaton was full drama mode today. He actually brought props for the sword fight. How extra can you be?”

Sean continued to talk about the class and whatever else while holding Mark and rubbing his arms. Eventually Mark’s sobs started to quiet and his breathing evened out. When he was calmed down enough, he awkwardly untangled himself from Sean’s arms, trying not to make eye contact.

“I’m uh, I’m okay now. Thank you. I’m sorry for bothering you in class.” Mark avoided Sean’s eyes, instead grabbing his discarded glasses from the ground.

“You know I don’t care about that. You’re more important than one class, and you know how much it kills me when I find out you suffered through this by yourself.” Sean flung his arm around Mark, squeezing him. “We’re a team! We have each other’s backs.”

Mark relished in the comforting words. He knew Sean never blamed him for asking for help, but he always felt the need to apologize.

Now that he had calmed down, Mark was exhausted. Looking at his phone he saw that class would be over soon. Damn, that’s two classes he basically missed today. He rubbed his face, groaning.

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

Mark tensed up, his mind racing to come up with an answer to Sean’s question.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay. I just wanna ask; earlier when you were in the bathroom, were you lying to me when you said you just felt sick?”

Mark could at least be honest about this. “I didn’t… hurt myself or anything. I haven’t since that last time.”

Mark had admitted the previous year to Sean that he hurt himself sometimes, when the loneliness became too much. It wasn’t often, but it was enough to scare Mark into telling Sean. Mark had expected him to be angry, or to call him pathetic but Sean merely hugged him, telling him that he was glad he was brave enough to tell him. He told him if he ever felt the need, to text or call him. A few months ago, Mark had been in a bad place. He wasn’t doing well in his classes, his parents, when they were actually home at the same time, were fighting more than ever and Mark had just come to the realization that he was gay. His feelings of isolation were stronger than they had been in a while and he found himself holding his scissors to his thighs before he even realized what he was doing.

Sean had happened to call him at that time - they had a group project to work on - and as soon as Mark answered the phone Sean was out the door, going to Mark's. The cuts weren’t bad enough that he needed stitches, but they weren’t scratches either. Sean ended up spending the night, and the two of them had a long talk. Mark promised Sean he would do his best to resist the urges, and the two spent a couple hours online researching different safety plans for Mark to follow if he needed it. The first being to call Sean.

Mark viewed the scars on his thighs as a reminder of his promise to Sean and so far he had done well.

“Okay, that’s good. Well, if you decide you want to tell me, you have my number.” Sean pulled away, moving to stand then extended a hand to Mark. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the buses home.”

Mark looked up at Sean, his best friend, and he came to make a decision. He would never tell Sean about his feelings. Besides the obvious rejection, there was too much of a possibility of Sean cutting himself off, just to keep Mark safe. Mark wasn’t going to lose Sean. He had to ignore his own feelings. He couldn’t not have Sean in his life in some form. He would also wait on telling Sean he was gay. He was scared Sean might piece it together, or that it would affect their friendship.

Mark also knew that he would have to find a way to live with this disease. He couldn’t let others know. His parents would force him to get the surgery and he refused to lose his feelings. He would have to try and ignore them. Surely they would eventually fade, seeing as nothing would come of them?

Whatever happened, Sean could never know. Mark reached up to grasp Sean’s hand, sealing his promise to himself. He could get through this. He _would_ get through this.

 

  

He couldn’t do this anymore.

The thought came unwanted as Mark was keeled over the garbage bin in his room, choking and gasping as he continued to cough up blood soaked roses. Tears were running down his cheeks as he gasped, the pain in his throat excruciating as the thorns ripped apart his skin.

Up until now, Mark had only ever coughed up petals. The odd time he found the head of a rose caught in his throat, cutting off his air supply as he choked and gasped, nearly passing out from the suffocation when the flower would finally make its way out of his body.

But tonight, Mark was experiencing first hand why roses were the worst flowers to have.

He gagged again, sobbing as another rose made its way out, the stem littered with thorns that were covered in blood and bits of skin tissue. When he finally felt the end of his fit, he released his grip on the bin, falling to the ground and laying on his side. He felt blood dribbling down his chin and neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to move his hands, which were outstretched in front of him, to wipe it away.

He stared, eyes not really focused on anything as he drew in ragged and painful breaths, tears still falling down his face and his nose.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

 

 

Eventually Mark came back to himself. He moved slowly, muscles stiff from being in the same position for so long. He sat up, dizzy, then made his way to the bathroom to clean up.

It was nearly midnight as he undressed and stepped into the shower to wash off the blood. Mark was numb, acting on autopilot as he washed his body. After, he spent ten minutes trying to scrub out as much blood as he could from his shirt before throwing it in his laundry pile to deal with later. He put on some pj pants then crawled into bed.

He laid there for a minute before grabbing his phone which had been discarded by his garbage bin along with his glasses, ignoring the overflow of flowers. At least he managed to keep the blood contained to the bin and his clothing, save the small stain where he had been laying on the floor.

Flipping open his phone, he was greeted with the text that had triggered the event in the first place.

             **DUDE.**

**YO**

**I FINALLY GREW SOME BALLS AND ASKED JANET TO PROM**

**AND SHE SAID YES.**

**HOLY SHIIIIIIIT**

Mark stared at the small black text on the screen of his phone, trying to find some enthusiasm so he could send a believable text back to Sean.

             **Oh shit man that's awesome!! I’m so happy for you! Sorry for the late reply, my phone was dead. You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow!**

Mark shut his phone, plugged it into his charger and turned it on silent. He turned over to his side, curling his arms under his pillow. It had been nearly two years since Mark realized he loved his best friend, and for two years he had it under control. He had himself convinced that he was finally moving past Sean, even though he would still find himself hunched over a school toilet or the garbage bin in his room coughing up roses until he was left a gasping mess on the floor, but the fits started to become fewer and farther in between. But he realized now he had only been kidding himself.

He knew Sean had been crushing on Janet since the beginning of junior year. He had expressed it to him one night when the two had been working on a project together. At first Mark had seen it as a chance to help move past him. If Sean was able to be in a relationship with someone and Mark saw how happy he’d be, maybe he’d be able to move on. But Sean’s texts caused a cascade of images of the two of them holding hands, cuddling together, hanging out in the halls, sharing their first kiss, having their first time.

By that point Mark felt the familiar itch in his throat and he dove down to his garbage bin in time for the first petals to make their way up, soon followed by an entire rose

Mark wanted to be the one holding Sean’s hand. He wanted to be the one to cuddle into Sean’s side, his arm draped around him, cutting off that last tendril of loneliness that was still wrapped tightly around Mark's throat. He wanted to be the one to hold Sean close as he kissed him with everything he had.

The fact that Sean could actually be in a relationship with someone finally hit home. Rather than help Mark move past, it only furthered his longing and desire, and added another level of impossibility to his unattainable dreams.

Was he going to die? It was a thought that plagued him. He knew he should go to a doctor, to make sure he hadn’t gotten some kind of infection or irreparable damage done to his throat, but he was scared. Scared they would somehow make him get the surgery, or tell his family and they would get involved.

The idea of just confessing to Sean crossed his mind but he immediately shut it down. He couldn't. He promised himself, and it wasn’t worth the consequences.

But it was apparent that Mark wasn’t going to be able to move on from Sean, and he still refused to eject _himself_ from Sean’s life. But he didn’t want to die. He clutched his pillow, closing his eyes as he tried to will himself to sleep. He didn’t want to think about his life right now, he wanted to fall into a blissful nothing, where he was neither haunted by impossible dreams or realistic nightmares, and away from the ever constant question of _what was he going to do?_

 

 

Turns out the solution was easier than he thought.

It was a few months after they graduated high school when Sean brought up the possibility of going to school for music production next year. Mark was in his first year of a chemical engineering degree but Sean had chosen to take a year off to help figure out what career path he wanted. Mark was ecstatic that Sean wanted to pursue music, it had always been a passionate hobby of his. When they were younger, he would often talk about the music in video games and how he would love to be able to produce music for a game company. When Sean seemed hesitant about the idea Mark asked what was wrong.

“The school is in Florida.”

In other words, the other side of the country.

The following year was both the quickest and _longest_ of his life. Mark wanted to spend as much time with Sean as possible before he left for school. He knew he would barely see him after that and Mark wasn’t ready to lose him. But being around him so much left Mark in more pain than he ever thought he’d be in, both emotionally and physically.

As the months went by Mark found himself over the same bin more and more, so many nights spent curled up on the ground, shaking and crying, throat and heart in agony.

The hardest was when it would happen at school. He had really enjoyed chemistry and science as a whole through school, and he knew it would be a good career to get into. Mark had originally wanted to attend an art school of some kind, but he didn’t think he was good enough to make it a lifestyle.

Through most of high school, his teachers had made it clear that finding a stable career was more important than one that made you happy. Some people were able to fit into both categories, but art wasn’t something that was on the list of ‘stable careers’, so he turned his attention to the sciences.

He never really shared it with people, but he loved to draw. It was a passion he had kept close to himself, a way for him to express himself in a way he never could with words. He had many sketchbooks stored away like diaries, hidden from the world. Even Sean didn’t know this about Mark. It was one of the few things he never told him

Mark found himself running through the halls of his university, trying to find the closest bathroom. He shouldered past people, hands wrapped firmly around his throat and mouth as he held back the roses threatening to burst forth.

He took a sharp left down another hallway, signs for the men's washroom at the end. He shoved through the door, thankful it was empty. He was in a more secluded area of the school. Though his relief soon faded when he pushed against the first stall to find it locked. He tried the other having the same result.

_Fuck_

Some fucker must have locked them from the inside thinking he was funny shit. Mark let out a pained moan, as the burning in his throat intensified. Seeing no other choice, he dropped down to the trash bin in the corner near the sinks and he howled in anguish as he gagged and coughed up the roses, the familiar feeling of thorns raking against the inside of his throat and mouth.

Why here, why now? Between work and school, he hadn’t even seen Sean in days. Whenever the fits came about it was after he had been with Sean or they interacted in some way, usually when he was home at night thinking about Sean, and every little nuance of his being.

But here he was, crying into the trash bin in a public washroom, the constant reminder that the man he loved would never love him back.

Mark was still gagging when he heard the door open. He froze, still choking but trying his best to keep the flowers in. He looked over, eyes a little blurry from the tears - which had irritated his contacts - to see a young man standing near the door, staring at Mark.

Mark tried to speak, to apologize but when he opening his mouth to respond, petals poured out and he continued to gag back into the trash. He heard footsteps and soon felt a hand on his back and another on his head. Both rubbed him soothingly and Mark practically keened at the comfort. He had always been through this alone and having even the comfort of a stranger left Mark weeping for another reason.

It took a couple more minutes but the fit soon subsided, and Mark fell against the wall, sliding down to the ground. The person with him walked away for a minute then came back to sit beside Mark and handed him a piece of paper towel for the blood dripping down his chin.

“Thank you,” Mark managed to whisper out, his throat ragged and raw.

“Don’t speak right now. Your throat needs to recover a bit first.”

He nodded his consent, then eyed the man. He had dark hair and dark eyes, a pair of black rimmed glasses and black spacers in his ears. Mark thought he looked like he belonged in a rock band.

They sat there quietly for a little while, Mark taking the time to readjust his contacts before he spoke up again, a little easier than before.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, and I really appreciate your support. You don’t even know me.”

The man shifted uncomfortably. “I have firsthand experience with it.”

Mark looked at him in surprise. Did he mean he had the disease too? Or knew someone that did? He wanted to ask but he didn’t want to pry. Mark didn't want any questions either.

The man reached into his bag and brought out some packets and handed them to Mark. They were tea packets. Mark looked at him in confusion.

“I’ve found this tea helps soothe the throat. You can get it in a little tea shop down on Spedina.”

Mark looked back at the packet, it was brown with a Chinese character on it and nothing else. He pocketed them and thanked the man.

“I’m Mark by the way.”

“Nate.”

The two of them sat there for a few more minutes before Mark spoke up. “I’d really appreciate if you kept what happened between us.”

Nate looked over at Mark then nodded. “I understand.” He got up from the ground, wiping his legs and grabbed his bag. “Can I offer some advice?” He looked down at Mark. “Whoever it is, forget them. Or you won't survive.” With that, Nate turned, unlocked the door - Mark didn’t even notice him locking it - and left the washroom, leaving Mark alone.

  

 

Mark had his sketchbook out and pencil in hand as he drew. It was late in the night, a small desk lamp the only light in his room. As he drew, his thoughts drifted to Sean and the incident earlier that day.

Mark knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It was getting worse and at this rate he could very likely die. His throat was getting more and more damaged, especially with it never being treated properly. He did his best to treat it himself - researching different remedies online and using the tea Nate gave him. The thorns had yet to really do any significant harm but they were constantly cutting up his throat and if he didn’t do something it was going to cause serious damage, if it hadn't already. His throat was pretty much always in pain at this point. Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to go to the doctor, and besides, it wouldn’t be a problem much longer.

Mark sighed. It was barely two months before Sean left for Florida. His program had the option for a summer preliminary of sorts, where he’d learn some of the basics to give him a bit of an edge in first year that he signed up for so Sean was leaving in May.

It was probably a good thing. As much as it destroyed him to admit it, Mark had to face the fact that he wasn’t going to survive around Sean anymore. He had done lots of reading about people who live with the disease; many managed it by moving away from the person they loved and over time it faded as they found love in another. Mark had to hope that that would be his future.

He placed his pencil on his side table, looking down at the finished drawing. It was a portrait of Sean, his soft, smiling face, but he was shrouded in vines and stems that were littered with large thorns and black roses at his feet. He stared at the drawing for a minute before closing his book and tucking it in his drawer. He switched the lamp off and curled up in his bed, his heart as empty as his promise to never lose Sean.

 

 

The day Sean left had been the hardest and worst of all. The day before Sean had spent the day and night at Mark's apartment. At first Mark was scared he would have a fit while he was there, but he wasn’t about to let it stop him from spending the night with Sean, possibly his last night.

It felt like they were back in middle school. They played games, talked for hours, laughing like Mark hadn’t in years. It was probably one of the best times of his life. Sean ended up sleeping in Mark's bed with him, not wanting to sleep on the floor. They laid side by side, talking about anything and everything. There was a lull in the conversation before Sean spoke up.

“Mark, I want you to promise me something.”

“Hmm?” Mark looked over to Sean, who turned his head to meet Mark's gaze.

“Promise me you will follow your dreams and you won't fall back into yourself.”

Mark's eyes widened and he found he had to look away from Sean’s gaze.

“Mark I mean it. I know engineering isn’t your real passion. You’re in it because you think it’ll make your parents happy and you’ve convinced yourself it’s what you want, but you forget Mark. I know you. Chase your dreams.” It was quiet for a minute before he continued. “And don’t fall into old habits. You have support here, and I’m only a phone call away.”

Mark looked back at Sean. He noticed that his eyes shone bright even in the dim light. He was so beautiful. Mark wanted to hold him. He wanted to tuck his face into the crook of Sean’s neck and inhale his scent, to memorize it. He wanted to feel Sean’s lips on his own, and feel his embrace. He wanted Sean to want it. He wanted Sean to love him.

Mark bit down on his bottom lip when it began to tremble. He felt so much _need_ , need to be with Sean. He could tell him. He could tell Sean right now, everything he’d kept a secret. He’d already broken his promise to never lose Sean, so what was another? He was leaving anyways, so what could he lose?

“Sean, I-” Mark stopped.

Sean looked at him, waiting. Always waiting. For Mark to catch up, for Mark to move past his demons, for Mark to be happy. And now he was waiting for him, before he left to live his own life, and pursue his own dreams and happiness. Sean always put Mark first.

He couldn’t do it.

“I promise.” Mark breathed out.

Another empty vow.

 

 

The night after he left Mark went to emergency.

It had been the worst fit yet and Mark honestly thought he was going to die.

He had called an ambulance to his apartment. They rushed him in, and were able to give him something for the pain. They checked his throat and gave him sedatives and antibiotics for any infections that may have started to appear from the prolonged damage to his throat. At first they had tried to convince him to get the surgery.

“You were lucky this time. If it gets any worse you will die,” The doctor told him sternly, with a hint of exasperation.

“No, I’m not having it.” Mark knew he would win; you needed explicit permission for the surgery from the patient due to the nature of it, except in an emergency situation. “Besides, the source of the problem has.. gone away. It should only get better now.”

And it did, slowly. In the beginning, when he had been talking to Sean almost every day he still had bad fits, always leaving him a bloody mess on the floor. But he survived. Knowing Sean was living his own dream, and that he could watch it happen was enough for Mark to deal with the constant agony.

But as the months went by, their conversations dwindled. They went from talking almost every day to once a week, to a couple times a month, until finally they barely had more than a ten minute text chat on occasion. Sean was careening full force into his program, and Mark was in the middle of his own degree, neck deep in textbooks and chemical equations. It hadn’t been on purpose, but life happens.

In turn, his fits became less frequent, and the severity of them dropped. After almost two years since Sean left, he was back to coughing up the odd petals.

Every so often Mark would have the urge to message Sean, to reconnect, but he was scared. As much as he missed his best friend, the person he loved, he was afraid of what could happen. Or more accurately, what wouldn’t happen.

He was scared Sean no longer needed him. Yeah, the fear of the disease coming back was part of it, but most of all he was scared that if he tried to reach out to Sean, he would receive nothing back. He had a new life, new friends and based on his Instagram, a new girlfriend. His family moved back to Ireland a year after he left, so holidays were spent there. Mark was a distant memory, a friend from days gone by, and there was no point in opening up old wounds. It was better to live in blissful ignorance. So after five years, Mark finally did it.

He finally let Sean go.

 

  

“Okay, before the bell goes, I just wanted to give you guys some wise words from your all-knowing teach.”

The class was a mixture of laughter and groans as he stood in front of the graduating art class.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Mr. Fischbach, it’s the last class of the day, let us be free.’ You guys can sit tight for a couple more minutes. You have your entire lives ahead of you.” Mark leaned back against the whiteboard and scanned the room. This class had been the first one he taught back in their freshman year when he first started his career as a teacher. Over the last four years he had gained and lost some students, but he got to watch them all grow so much over that time, in and out of the classroom and he couldn’t help the swell of pride.

“I just wanted to say it’s been a great joy teaching this class. You all have so much to offer the world in so many different ways. The only thing I have to leave you with is to follow your dreams, no matter the costs and know you are never really alone.” Mark looked up at the clock, barely a minute left in class. “Now get your crap and get out of my class. You’re graduated after all. Go enjoy the summer before you start the rest of your life.”

The bell rang and everyone collected their stuff and left the class. They all said their goodbyes and best wishes as they went, a few hanging back to leave Mark with a hug and to chat. He stuck around for a while to finish up some final grading before he packed up.

It was the end of another school year, this one marking his fourth year as a teacher, an art teacher no less. He had never pictured himself here, at least not seriously. After his third year in engineering, Mark had dropped out. It had been a few months after he lost contact with Sean, and after wallowing in his own self-pity he realized he was letting Sean’s friendship, his memory, go to waste. He had come to hate his program, and he had isolated himself, becoming a mirror image of the pathetic little kid he had been before Sean had entered his life, and Mark decided then that he was going to keep at least one of his promises.

So he dropped out of his program and enrolled in education, majoring in art and minoring in science. Becoming a teacher had never really been a career he had put much stock into, but Mark wanted to make an impact on lives. He wanted to try and be someone who could help kids during what he would call some of the most trying times in their lives. It gave him the chance to help someone the way Sean helped him and allowed him to do what he loved.

Now here he was, at twenty-nine, almost finished his Masters, doing art every day, and had filled in as a substitute for the odd science class. His life was so far from what he ever thought it would be.

Mark headed down to the parking lot, waving goodbye to a few staff members as he went. He approached his car and leaned against the driver’s side door, waiting. It was another few minutes before he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching him. He looked up, then at his wrist, then back up at Nate.

“You’re late.” Mark singsonged.

“Its frickin two minutes past, get off my back.” Nate walked around and got in the passenger seat. Mark giggled and opened the driver’s side door, tossing his stuff into the back before settling in.

Yet another path his life had taken he never expected. Mark never assumed after the day in the washroom that Nate would become a close friend to him.

Mark had seen Nate around the school every so often after that day, but had ignored him for the most part, embarrassed over the incident. When Mark changed into the education program, there was a group of fourth years who spoke to all the first years and Nate happened to be one of them. Having had his new found determination to actually _live_ his life, he had caught up with Nate after the class had ended.

“Hey, Nate?” Mark touched his shoulder to grab his attention. Nate had hesitated, then waved off his friends before moving off to the side with Mark.

“Yeah, Mark right?”

“So you remember me then?” The two of them stood awkwardly near the wall.

“Mhm.” Nate looked around. He had looked uncomfortable and Mark felt bad, but he had something for him.

“I uh, just wanted to give you these.” Mark dug into his bag, pulled out a small plastic bag and handed it over to Nate.

“It’s some of those tea packets you gave me, that day in the washroom. Along with a couple other ones I found that work well.” Mark fidgeted while Nate had looked through the bag. “Just wanted to say thank you again. For that. Um.” Mark hadn’t known what else to say as he stood there.

Nate had looked at the packets for a moment then back up at Mark. At first his face had been neutral and Mark was scared he had made a fool of himself but then Nate smiled. It was a small smile, tentative, but it had definitely been there. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Nate then dropped the packets back in the bag and stuffed it in his hoodie pocket.

“No problem.” Mark scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll uh, I’ll let you go now. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

Nate had looked over his shoulder then back at Mark, contemplative. “If you aren’t busy, I was going to go get some coffee. You’re welcome to join me.”

Mark had tried to keep his surprise and glee concealed as he nodded. Nate snorted a little before he had turned and beckoned Mark to follow. That had been the start of their friendship, one that had helped to bring him to where he was, Nate having been the one who got him the position at the school.

Mark buckled up and asked Nate about his day as he started the ignition.

“I had six students show up.”

“‘Ey, that’s a new record I think.” Mark patted Nate on the shoulder then backed out of the parking spot.

“Shut up. It’s the last class of the day and it's a senior choir class. Most people would rather just go home.” Nate fiddled with the radio station as Mark turned onto the road.

“I think I only had three students missing.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “Ho ho, sorry I’m not mister big shot teacher who everyone loves.” Nate settled on a station, getting comfortable in his seat. 

Mark shot him a prideful smile before laughing. “It also helps that the kids in my class actually _want_ to be there versus taking it for an easy credit.”

“Yet people still flunk the class where all you have to do is show up and sing.” Nate grumbled, then sighed. “Oh well. Year is over now. I’m looking forward to the senior class in the fall. Most of them were involved in the musical this year. I think they will be a lot of fun to work with.” 

They chatted idly until they pulled up to the Coffee Loft, a small cafe that was a few blocks from the school that they had been going to for years. They ordered their food and sat down in a booth near the storefront window.

“So, Matt?” Mark asked as he sipped his coffee.

Mark took far too much glee in the way Nate’s ears turned pink and the smile he was failing at keeping off his face. “We’re going out for dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of the school year. It’s that new fancy grill house down on Erskine.”

“And is that where you’re going to pop the question?”

Nate nodded, eyes bright. “Yeah, tonight’s the night.”

Mark smiled at his friend. “I’m so excited for you man.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet. He still has to say yes.” Nate fiddled with the latte in his hands.

“Oh psh. That man is head over heels for you. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you yet.”

Nate blushed and scratched his head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. You know, I never thought I’d get over Pat. After you and I broke up, I was pretty much ready to settle into a life of solitude.” Nate smiled softly. “Then that crazy guy came flying in. The last two years have gone by so quick.”

Mark smiled into his coffee. Nate deserved this, deserved his happiness. Mark was always awed at how far Nate had come in the years he had known him. He remembered the first time Nate had ever really opened up to him. It had been several months since they had become friends, the two sitting near the back of the Coffee Loft when Nate had told him about his past and about Pat.

“We were childhood friends. Grew up on the same street.” Nate had spoken softly to Mark, eyes downcast. “It was middle school when I realized I liked him. I kept it a secret at first, I was too scared to tell him. But then he came out as bi to me, and I confessed that I liked him. Turns out he liked me too. I was pretty blown away.”

Mark had listened intently to Nate, not wanting to miss a single detail. It had been a mystery he had been dying to know since that day in the washroom.

“We dated through the rest of middle school and into high school. It was at the beginning of grade eleven when I coughed up my first rose petal.”

Mark had been shocked to find out Nate had the same flower as him but also confused. “And you were still with Pat at the time?”

Nate nodded. “I was. I had been so confused. At first I thought maybe it was a fluke, but it kept happening. It wasn’t until a couple months later, when I was puking up full rose heads that I found out he had been cheating on me with this girl name Jess in the year below us.”

Mark had felt his heart break at the knowledge. “God, I’m sorry Nate.”

Nate had waved him off. “I don’t need your apologies. It happened a long time ago.”

“But, you still love him don’t you.” Mark had known Nate still had the disease, the signs had been there and he knew them well.

Nate had sighed. “He was my first love and for a long time my best friend. I don’t know if you ever get over that.”

Mark remembered the way he gripped the coffee in his hands, the way his heart had dropped, his stomach turning like the ocean during a storm. He had understood more than Nate knew at the time. He hadn’t shared his own story about Sean until a few months later when Nate had found him in another fit when he had been over at Mark's apartment. It wasn’t that he hadn’t trusted Nate, but he usually avoided thinking about it all together. Even though he had been ready to try and live his life as best as he could in Sean’s memory, it still hurt, more than the physical pain of the disease. He still had his feelings for Sean, buried deep down.

It wasn’t long after that that Mark and Nate had decided to pursue a relationship together. They had been growing closer and closer and Nate had brought it up one night. Mark hadn’t seen the harm in it at the time, and they decided to give it a shot. It ended up a futile effort. As much as they both cared for each other, it had never grown past a familial bond. Mark had known it would never work as he had laid in his bed, listening to the sounds of Nate gagging in the washroom.

He remembered lying there, staring at the ceiling as Nate had walked back into the room and crawled into bed beside him. The silence had been deafening and stretched on until Mark broke it.

“I don’t think we can keep this up.”

Nate had turn his head towards him. Mark looked over at him, had barely been able to make out his face in the dimly lit room.

“It’s been almost a year, and it hasn’t gone away for either of us.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try. It’s better than being alone.”

Mark shifted onto his side. “You won't be alone forever. Just because I’m not the one you want, doesn’t mean you won't find them.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m pretty much set to live a life of solitude.” Nate looked back up at the ceiling. His voice had been so full of contempt.

Mark shuffled closer to Nate and gently pulled his face over to look at him. “Is this really what you want? A life with someone you don’t truly love or who truly loves you?”

Nate deflated. “No, and I know it’s not what you want either.”

“For now, let's just lay here together and sleep. Tomorrow is another day.” Nate had agreed and he shuffled closer to Mark, who wrapped his arm around him.

If Mark was honest, he hadn’t wanted to let it go at the time either. It was easy to pretend things were okay when you had someone to hold you, but it hadn’t right for either of them, and come a few years later, Nate finally found his other half. 

Mark was still waiting for his.

Nate leaned back in the both and looked at his phone. “Ah, we should probably get going. I still need to get ready for tonight. You better have your phone on, ready to deal with tears of either kind.”

Mark finished his coffee with a gulp before answering. “Please. The two of you will be too busy in bed. Better make sure you do it after you eat or else it’ll go to waste.”

Nate slapped him on the shoulder as Mark laughed, the two of them exiting the cafe. Mark questioned Nate on his plan for the evening, dropping him off with a ‘good luck’ and a ‘be safe’ which earned him a nasty glare before he headed to his own house.

Mark parked in the garage, opening the door to be greeted by his pup, who was always excited for him to come home.

“Hello there Chica. Ready to go outside?” She bolted to the back door, Mark following to let her out to do her business. While she was out there he went into the kitchen looking for a snack. He didn’t really feel like cooking anything tonight and was considering take out when he heard a knock on the door. 

Not expecting anyone, he walked up to the door curious, looking through the peephole. Whoever it was, was facing the other way, so all Mark saw was a head of neon green hair. Confused now, Mark pulled back and opened the door, and when the man turned around, he came face-to-face with someone he never thought he’d see again: Sean McLoughlin. He stood, staring, frozen in place.

“Mark!” Sean all but shouted, a smile taking up most of his face. “Holy shit man, look at you! It’s been so long.”

Mark barely got out his name before Sean was barreling into him, causing Mark to lose his footing a bit, the two of them staggering inside.

Mark's brain had all but shorted out as he stood there, arms hovering in the air as Sean hugged him tight. After a moment it finally clicked and he found himself circling his arms around the other man, fitting into him as easily as he had all those years before. 

“ _Sean.”_ Mark breathed out his name, tucking his face into Sean’s neck, inhaling in his scent, feeling his pulse, everything that was telling him that _he was here, right now, in his arms._

Mark almost thought he was dreaming, but he had had this dream far too many times over the years for him to know this was _real._ It was happening and his brain still hadn’t quite caught up.

They stood there for a few moments before Sean pulled back, far too soon in Marks opinion and he finally got a good look at him.

He wasn’t the same lanky kid he knew before. He had filled out a bit, a touch of muscle peeking out from his sleeves. His hair was longer on top and it was _green._ He had even gotten taller. But he was still Sean. Filled to the brim with energy and as loud as ever. And he was right here in front of him.

“Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Marked asked him.

“I moved back.”

“What? Really?”

Sean nodded. “Yup, I got offered a job here in L.A. Figured it was time to come home, so I checked in with Bob and Wade, got your address and here I am!” Sean opened his arms, a large smile plastered on his face. “I live about a ten minute drive from you actually.”

Mark was speechless. Sean was back, and he was back _to stay._ He was still processing everything, his brain still telling him he was dreaming and he was going to wake up. A bark broke his train of thought and he remembered Chica was still outside.

“Sorry. One sec, I have to let Chica in.”

“You have a dog? Fuck yeah,” he heard Sean say as he walked to the back to let Chica in.

“Go say hello girl. That’s daddy’s old best friend.” He spoke quietly to Chica as she bolted in towards Sean. Mark giggled as he heard a yelp then laughter. Daddy’s old best friend.

Old best friend.

_Old love of his life._

The _love of his life._

_Sean McLoughlin, the man he loved was standing in his living room right now._

It was finally really hitting Mark and he had to grab the door frame for support. Sean was here, after nearly ten years, Sean was in his house, and back in his life. He’d held him in his arms, could still feel the tingle of warmth from Sean’s body, the exact same as what it used to be. That tingle spread through his entire body and all he wanted was to go back and bring Sean into his arms again. He pushed back from the door frame and was going to go back to the living room when he felt it.

The itch.

Mark halted, frozen to the spot when he felt the all too familiar scratch in his throat.

_No, no no no, it’s been so long. Why, why?_

It had been _months_ since Mark had any kind of fit. He hadn’t even thought about it at all it had been so long. But with Sean here, all his memories and feelings were resurfacing at a rate he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

Images of him and Sean sped through his mind, all the moments they had shared together, followed by all the times Mark had agonized over Sean, the nights he spent curled up on the ground, weeping in his own blood at the love of a man he would never have. Then he was seeing the night he had last seen Sean, the two of them laying in Mark's bed, facing each other. Mark had wanted to confess to Sean that night but he never did. He kept silent, hiding his pain, keeping his promise to never let Sean find out his true feelings.

Looked like Sean was finally going to see it.

Mark staggered, the itch in his throat increasing to searing pain as he choked. He could hear Sean calling his name and he tried to respond, to tell him not to come, but all that came out was a horrible retch as a rose made its way out of Mark's mouth. The stem followed and Mark groaned in pain as the thorns tore his throat apart. As soon as the first one was out, another followed immediately after.

He fell to his hands and knees, body arched as he gagged and choked. Tears started to fall as the pain spread through his body.

“Mark, are you okay- _holy fuck._ ”

Mark closed his eyes, humiliation flooding him as he pictured what Sean was seeing now. _He’s going to know, and I’ll never see him again._ Mark sobbed which turned into another choked gag as yet another rose made its way out of his mouth and onto the floor into a pool of blood. He felt his body start to shake.

“Holy fuck, shit, okay. It’s okay. I’ll call 911, just stay calm.”

Mark wasn’t sure who Sean was telling to stay calm.

He felt a hand on his back, and he heard Sean’s voice right beside him.

“Mark, oh my god, Mark.”

He turned his head to look at Sean, seeing his face filled with tears threatening to spill. Mark heaved heavy breaths, feeling blood drip down his lips as he leaned to the side, letting his one arm hold his weight as he brought the other to Sean’s face to wipe away the tear that had fallen.

“Don’t cry Sean, please. It’ll be okay.” He brushed his thumb to swipe the tear, leaving a smudge of red across his cheek bone. He felt the room still for a moment as he looked at Sean who stared at him in disbelief before it was broken by Mark retching, letting out a scream of pain as another rose crawled through his throat.

Mark collapsed to the ground, shaking as he continued to cough and choke. He felt Sean at his side, talking to what he believed was the operator but he was slowly fading out of consciousness. His body was beginning to numb as his throat seared. He continued to cough up rose after rose with no reprieve.

At one point he felt hands on his body, and for a minute it felt like he was flying. He felt weightless and he tried to look around but he found he couldn’t move his head. Soon that feeling ended as he felt solid ground beneath him again, along with other voices cutting through the pained fog in his brain.

“Heart rate is increasing… one hundred beats…. CO2 levels are rising… suffocation.”

Mark couldn’t understand what was happening. He tried to look around but his head and body were locked in position on his side. He tried to take a deep breath… only to realize he couldn’t. He tried again and it only led him to gag, roses filling his mouth and falling out.

He felt panic seize him. He couldn’t breathe, _couldn’t breathe._ He tried to take another breath, barely getting any air in as he felt rose petals clogging his throat.

“He’s panicking.”

“Mark, look at me. I need you to stay calm.”

Mark heard a voice talking to him and with a great deal of effort he managed to focus on what has happening in front of him.

He was in an ambulance and there was a woman looking at him, talking to him. Telling him to stay calm. Calm? How could he be calm? _He couldn’t breathe._

He tried again to take a breath with the same result as before.

“Mark, relax. You have to stay calm. We are on the way to the hospital. Take shallow breaths. Deep ones are only going to cause you to re inhale the roses.” She brought up a gas mask with a pump on it. “We’re going to put an ambu bag over your mouth to help with your breathing. Stay calm.”

She placed it over Mark's mouth, and he immediately felt air rush into his lungs but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He tried to get words out but he only managed to gag once again, more roses and rose petals spewing forth.

“Don’t try to talk Mark.”

Mark needed to know where Sean was. He remembered him being by his side in the house but he couldn’t see him now, not that he could move around. He looked around, trying to see what he could.

“S-s,” He tried to speak and was hit with another hacking cough.

“Your friend Sean is following us to the hospital.”

Mark relaxed a bit, thankful. He felt the ambulance stop and he tried to focus on what was happening. 

“Prep for emergency surgery.”

Surgery? Why surgery? Mark choked again, another rose and stem fighting its way up through the petals when it clicked.

They were going to cure him.

No. They couldn’t. He just got Sean back, he couldn’t lose him. Not again.

They hoisted him onto a stretcher and wheeled him into the hospital. He tried to fight against them. He didn’t want this, they couldn’t do it.

He found he was able to move his head again and he looked around. He was in emergency at the hospital. Was Sean here? He swung his head to the right and watched as Sean ran through the doors. 

“ _Mark!”_

_Sean._

He wasn’t losing him. He had to know.

Mark used everything he had left in him and threw himself from the stretcher. There were gasps and shouts as Mark got to his feet and staggered towards Sean.

His sight wavered as he gasped, feeling the darkness creep up on him. Sean was running up to meet him as Mark reached for him.

_Sean, I love you. Please, don’t let them take you away._

_Don’t leave me._

Mark tried desperately to get the words out but all he managed to do was cough up more petals and choked gasps. Mark collapsed to the ground, still reaching for Sean. He felt hands on his body, pulling him in all directions except towards Sean. He watched as he was dragged away from Sean, who was watching Mark, a nurse standing with him. Black spots dotted across Mark's vision as everything slowly faded away. The last thing he saw was Sean, Mark’s name on his lips.

  

 

When Mark woke again, he was confused and disoriented. He tried to move his head, flopping it to the side. His eyelids were heavy and with great effort he managed to crack them open. It was blurry at first, and he went to move his hand to grab his glasses, but stopped when he felt a slight jab at the movement. Turning his head to look down he saw a needle and tube coming from his hand. Following it he saw it was attached to an IV bag. Blinking a few times Mark scanned his body.

He was in a hospital gown, laying in a cot. He had a few tubes and wires attached to him, along with what he believed was an oxygen tube on his face near his nose.

_Am I in a hospital? Why…_

Mark felt the flood gates open as the last memories before waking up rushed forwards.

Sean. The disease. Hospital. Surgery…

The surgery. They had said they were going to operate to remove the disease, to save him.

To remove Sean. 

In the haze, Mark felt panic seize him. No, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t lose Sean, he couldn’t.

He heard the heart monitor spike along with his heart rate. He started to take ragged breaths, wincing at the pain in his throat. He jerked when he felt a hand touch his arm, swinging his head around.

“Hey, Mark, it’s alright. You’re in the hospital, you’re going to be okay.” Sean spoke in hushed tones. It was weird hearing such a soft voice coming from him.

Mark tried to speak his name, wincing again at the pain.

“Don’t speak right now, your throat is pretty raw.”

Sean, Sean, you’re here. You’re here. Mark's eyes moved around his face taking in every detail. He waited, waited to feel nothing for the person he had loved all his life, but he found that his entire body was alive with the usual feeling of desire and affection. Had they not done the surgery? Then how was he still alive? His mind was a flurry of questions, anxiety still bubbling at the surface. Was he even here right now?

Mark moved his hand towards Sean, who seemed to understand and moved his other hand to grasp Mark's.

“I’m here Mark, I’m not going anywhere.”

Mark felt the warmth from Sean's hand spread throughout his entire body. Sean was here, he still had his feelings for him, and he wasn’t dead. It was okay.

Mark felt his body relax, relief flooding his body. His felt his eyelids growing heavy. He tried to keep them open, not wanting to miss any time with Sean but his exhaustion was winning out.

“Shh, sleep now Mark. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” Sean’s voice lulled him as he sank into the bed, drifting off once more.

 

 

This time when Mark woke up he was much more aware of his surroundings.

He immediately tried to sit up, searching the room. He found Sean sitting in a chair beside him, a soft smile on his face. Mark relaxed, letting his body lay back down on the bed.

“Sean,” Mark spoke. It was soft, a little scratchy, but he was able to talk. It still hurt, but he didn’t care right now.

“Hey Mark, how are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been gargling with barbed wire.” Mark felt sore everywhere, the brunt of it being his throat and chest. “What.. What happened?”

Sean’s smile faltered a bit. “What do you remember?”

“I remember being in my house with you, when I, uh, when I had a fit.” He looked down embarrassed. “I remember being in the ambulance and getting to the hospital. Seeing you there. I remember them saying something about surgery.” He looked back up at Sean. He also remembered how he had jumped off the gurney in his desperate attempt to reach Sean but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. 

Sean nodded. “They took you into the operating room. They were going to do the surgery, but you stopped coughing up the roses and they were able to stabilize you. The doctor still wants to perform the surgery, but since your life wasn’t in danger anymore, he legally couldn’t.”

Mark looked away from Sean, processing the information. So he did still have the disease. He was still in danger. But why did it stop? He had been pretty sure he was going to die, but here he was.

“Mark,” Sean spoke, breaking Mark’s train of thought. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Mark opened his mouth but nothing came out. Sean looked at him, hurt in his eyes. God, how could he even talk about this with him? He had kept it a secret for so long, so he wouldn’t lose Sean as a friend. Now though, there was no way around it. He wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of it. He might as well get it out now, while Sean was still here.

“I was scared that if I told you, I’d lose you.”

“You never would have lost me Mark. You were my best friend. We could have figured something out,” Sean protested.

“What could we have done? It was either get the surgery or we had to stay away from each other. Either way I would have lost you, and there was no way I was going to let that happen back then. I-” Mark stopped himself, swallowed then looked away from Sean before continuing. “I loved you Sean, still do. I was prepared to do anything to not lose you.”

He had been ready to die.

When Sean didn’t respond, Mark looked over at him. He was staring at Mark, looking stunned, his mouth opening and closing. He seemed to be at a loss, but Mark didn’t blame him. What could you say?

“Mark, I-” he started, but Mark spoke before he could finish.

“You don’t have to say anything Sean, it’s okay.” He smiled at him, hoped it was reassuring. “I managed over the ten years we’ve been apart. It’ll be a little harder now that you’re back, but it’s a big city. Easy to avoid people when needed.” Mark looked down at his hands. “I know I can’t see you again after this, but I just wanted to tell you that you were the best thing that ever happened to me. Because of you, I broke out of my shell. I’m living a life I never thought I would, one that makes me happy. I’ll never regret any of it. I became someone I can be proud of for once in my life, and I just needed you to know before you go-”

Mark was cut off when he felt Sean’s lips against his. Mark was frozen, his mind racing to figure out what was happening. Sean’s lips felt warm, and he was acutely aware of how dry and chapped his own were. Still in a state of shock, he merely sat there, eyes opened wide until Sean pulled back.

“What-”

“Shush, I’m talking right now.” Sean silenced him. Mark nodded, watching Sean as he waited for him to continue, lips still tingling.

“Mark, we’ve always been really close. Closer than most friends. Growing up, I never really gave it much thought. You were my first friend and my best friend. Connections like that can be pretty impactful. Obviously now I know it was more for you.”

“You were still my best friend. That never changed,” Mark interrupted. He didn’t want Sean to think any different.

“I know that. Anyways, when I left for Florida and settled into my life there, I came to some of my own realizations.” Sean paused for a second before continuing. “It was a couple years in when I figured out I was bisexual.”

Mark was stunned. Sean was bi? “Really? How did you figure that out?”

“Like anyone else I guess, by testing the waters. In those moments though, I found myself picturing someone else.” Sean bit his lip before continuing. “I pictured you, and I realized that the feelings I had for you through school were more than just platonic.”

Mark was rendered speechless. Was Sean really saying what he thought? Could he really hope?

“Are.. Are you saying you liked me? Like actually,” Mark paused, letting the question hang.

“Yes Mark, I am.”

“But, but if that's true, then the disease would have stopped, and it’s fairly obvious it hadn’t.” Mark wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t think Sean would be so cruel as to lie about something like this, but the disease was never wrong.

“At the time, I was with my girlfriend who I was pretty head over heels for, and you were dating someone yourself.” He must have meant Nate. “And two thousand miles away. I never really put much thought into it past the initial recognition and I let it go, let my own feelings get buried back down where they had been all my life. I had wanted to message you, so many times, but I didn’t know how. You were living your life, living it properly, and I’m so proud of you for that. You've become the person you always were, and you didn't need me anymore.” Sean paused, looking away for a moment before back at Mark.

“And I think part of me was also scared. I didn't know how to handle the feelings I had discovered, and rather than try and sort them out with you, I buried them and ignored them and tried to focus on my life. It was the easier option.

“Then a couple months ago she and I broke it off and then I was offered a job back here in L.A. I knew if I was coming home I had to see you. We hadn’t talked in so long, which was on both of us, and I wanted to reconnect with you. You say I did all these things for you, but you helped me just as much Mark. I was a new kid, an ocean away from home and you let me in. Something you never really did with anyone. You gave me a home, Mark.”

Mark felt tears pricking the back of his eyes. All this time, they could have been something if Mark had just said something.

But Sean had said he didn’t realize it himself until his twenties. If he had said something, would he have realized earlier or would it have pushed him away?

“And.. And now? What do you feel now?”

Sean looked at Mark, really looked at him before speaking. “When the staff were trying to pull you back onto the gurney, it clicked. After you all but leaped off it trying to reach me. I had been so scared when you started hacking in your house that I never really registered what was happening. I had been so focused on getting you help.

“But when I saw you reaching for me, the look on your face. There was so much fear but mixed in was unadulterated _love._ Love for me.” Sean paused, choking up a bit. Mark reached forward and took his hand. Sean wove his fingers through his, and Mark reveled in the feeling if it, how perfect they fit together.

“In that moment I thought you were going to die, and I realized that I didn’t want to live my life without you anymore.” Sean looked up at Mark, letting his own tears fall. “I’m so, so sorry Mark. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize my feelings before and you’ve suffered so much and all alone-”

“Hey now, none of that.” Mark cut him off. “I kept it from you because I was scared. If anyone is to blame it’s me. I know how scary it can be, coming to terms with your own sexuality and feelings. None of this is your fault. All that matters is you’re here now.”

“And I’m not going anywhere.” Sean said it with so much conviction as he brought his other hand to cover their joined hands. It made Mark's heart flutter.

Mark leaned forward, eyes closed as he captured Sean’s lips with his own. Now that he hadn’t been taken by surprise, Mark had the chance to revel in the feeling of Sean’s mouth on his. He brought his free hand up to gently cup Sean’s face, and leaned more into the kiss.

Mark had always imagined what it would be like to kiss Sean. He had always pictured it as a grand event - filled with passion, their bodies coming together in the heat of the moment - not as the end result of a near-death experience. He never could have imagined _this_ : Sean’s mouth pressing against his, slow and tentative, soft and warm. No, this was much better than anything he’d imagined. 

Sean moved his hand and placed it on Mark's waist, applying pressure to coax Mark closer. Mark was more than happy to oblige. He heard the scrape of metal on tile as Sean moved his chair closer to Mark and wrapped his hand around Mark’s body.

Mark didn’t want this moment to ever end. He would be happy if time stopped and he was frozen in this moment forever. But the sounds of the monitors - the heart monitor in particular as it picked up his increased heart rate - and the staff in the halls reminded him where he was and how quickly the moment could turn into more. 

Reluctantly, Mark broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against Sean’s. 

“It would be best if we remembered where we were right now.” Mark opened his eyes to look at Sean, who still had his own eyes closed.

“The door does have a lock,” Sean quipped.

Mark giggled, then closed his eyes again with a happy sigh.

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” Mark whispered to Sean. “And Sean?”

“Hmm?”

“I'll always need you.”

He felt Sean’s arm tighten around him, hugging him close. Mark followed suit, his own hand that had been absentmindedly stroking Sean’s cheek moved to wrap around Sean’s neck and the two sat there, embraced. 

They held each other for a while. Neither spoke much, both of them enjoying the comfort of the other until the doctor came in to check on Mark and take some readings. They ran some tests and they confirmed with him that he no longer had the disease. It seemed when Sean recognized his own feelings for Mark, the petals and all signs of the disease slowly started to deteriorate. They warned Mark that there was a good possibility that he would have a couple minor fits over the next few weeks as the roses fully exited his system, and to come back for a few follow ups over the next couple months.

Mark knew that it wasn’t going to be picture perfect. They both had things they were going to need to work through. Mark had been aware of his feelings for Sean for years and he had kept them buried for so long, fear and paranoia a constant plague. It was going to take time for him to move past those feelings and thoughts enough to accept that Sean was here to stay.

As for Sean, he had only recently come to terms with his own feelings for Mark and was fresh out of a long-term relationship that he knew nothing about. He could also see the guilt Sean harboured from the years Mark had dealt with the disease alone.

Mark had become so accustomed to the ever-present challenges in his life, he almost forgot to consider all the ways his life was about to change for the better. Sean wasn’t just here _right now._ Sean was _staying_.

Mark would never have to spend another night in bed alone, trying to forget the person he loved the most. He would never have to plan another week of meals based on the cuts and tears in his throat and mouth. He wouldn’t have to pretend he was happy to live alone anymore - happy that no one was there to see him doubled over in pain, wiping blood off the tile floor in his otherwise-empty bathroom. He could feel warmth spreading toward the center of himself from Sean’s hand, still clasped in his own, and he imagined that warmth moving to every corner of his body, healing him from the inside out. He knew the wounds would close and disappear, knew this was the last time his loneliness would threaten to take his life. He knew he would wake up tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. The death sentence was gone. Sean was here.

They both had their own baggage that was going to take time and a lot of effort to work through, but as Mark laid in the hospital bed, watching Sean as he ranted on about the quality of hospital food and how they were secretly trying to poison them, hands firmly grasped together, Mark knew they’d be alright in the end.     

For once, he was happy he never kept his promise.

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? Would you want to see a sequel, showing them in a relationship, and to find more out about Sean's life the past ten years?


End file.
